LFW
So London Fashion Week begins today. I am not terribly au fait with fashion. Other than reading iD magazine briefly in the 1980s and once getting into a ruck with a hack from The Face who was being a coked-up dickhead (TM) at a club in the 90s I have pretty much worn the same style of clothes on a day-to-day basis since '77[1]
Sure there were some club kid going out outfits that caused a stir, but that was rather the point. The Kitcat Halloween party wedding dress photo is what launched brand Sexbat onto the alt.hierachy back in '89 for example. These were one offs. These involved input from other people.
Mainly, if I am going to dress myself it will be customary suits of inky black. Ideally involving jeans and a large plain black t-shirt.
I am told that my battered DMs are currently high fashion. So I am not wearing them today, not for LFW.
I am not sure whether this week is for SS15 or AW15[2]. They both sound like parts of an airfix model to me. But as LFW is based in the same office as me, and the courtyard has been transformed into a VIP area and catwalk it seems only polite to join in.
Today then I am wearing Dehavilland[3]. A black pinstripe suit with button braces, Rebook boots, old school as fuck and black as a comedown. A white collarless shirt, rayban sunglasses (peril sensitive) and a bright orange knitted hat with cat ears and a chin strap. I look like a tool.[4]
The sunglasses were an afterthought, but as I woke up to a tweet from work colleagues suggesting this modification to our usual corporate look it seemed only fair to join in.
The only downside to looking like a fashionista is that I am meeting with the new creative director this morning; perhaps he will take me for a kindred spirit. Perhaps not.
* * *
Yesterday I went to the launch of "Get Creative," a year long programme designed to get the UK making art, writing, dancing, filming and all of that cool stuff. I saw the Director General of the BBC talking. He is called Tony Hall. I tried out my joke about how I was disappointed he wasn't the one in The Specials. No one got it.
Then Alan Yentob came out and interviewed an Actor. There was a lot of swearing. I like the BBC. Finally Johnny Vegas came on with a potter's wheel and made a teapot in under a minute.
There was coffee and pastries too, but due to the unique way the BBC is funded they were very small.
In the midst of all of this chaos, there was a strong message and I hope the programme is successful. I also had an idea for a competition that I need to pitch.
Right, cat hat on, sunglasses on. Time to be fabulous.
[1] The earliest photo I care to share is a grainy black and white photo of me, at Stonehenge in '77 wearing a black hooded top
[2] the later, apparently
[3] Could be Saville Row, could be Old Kent Road. I have no idea
[4] But one with a sense of self-deprecating irony, so that makes it okay.
Sure there were some club kid going out outfits that caused a stir, but that was rather the point. The Kitcat Halloween party wedding dress photo is what launched brand Sexbat onto the alt.hierachy back in '89 for example. These were one offs. These involved input from other people.
Mainly, if I am going to dress myself it will be customary suits of inky black. Ideally involving jeans and a large plain black t-shirt.
I am told that my battered DMs are currently high fashion. So I am not wearing them today, not for LFW.
I am not sure whether this week is for SS15 or AW15[2]. They both sound like parts of an airfix model to me. But as LFW is based in the same office as me, and the courtyard has been transformed into a VIP area and catwalk it seems only polite to join in.
Today then I am wearing Dehavilland[3]. A black pinstripe suit with button braces, Rebook boots, old school as fuck and black as a comedown. A white collarless shirt, rayban sunglasses (peril sensitive) and a bright orange knitted hat with cat ears and a chin strap. I look like a tool.[4]
The sunglasses were an afterthought, but as I woke up to a tweet from work colleagues suggesting this modification to our usual corporate look it seemed only fair to join in.
The only downside to looking like a fashionista is that I am meeting with the new creative director this morning; perhaps he will take me for a kindred spirit. Perhaps not.
* * *
Yesterday I went to the launch of "Get Creative," a year long programme designed to get the UK making art, writing, dancing, filming and all of that cool stuff. I saw the Director General of the BBC talking. He is called Tony Hall. I tried out my joke about how I was disappointed he wasn't the one in The Specials. No one got it.
Then Alan Yentob came out and interviewed an Actor. There was a lot of swearing. I like the BBC. Finally Johnny Vegas came on with a potter's wheel and made a teapot in under a minute.
There was coffee and pastries too, but due to the unique way the BBC is funded they were very small.
In the midst of all of this chaos, there was a strong message and I hope the programme is successful. I also had an idea for a competition that I need to pitch.
Right, cat hat on, sunglasses on. Time to be fabulous.
[1] The earliest photo I care to share is a grainy black and white photo of me, at Stonehenge in '77 wearing a black hooded top
[2] the later, apparently
[3] Could be Saville Row, could be Old Kent Road. I have no idea
[4] But one with a sense of self-deprecating irony, so that makes it okay.